


in the midst of creation

by wordswithinmoments



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Pining, Series
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:13:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27603313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordswithinmoments/pseuds/wordswithinmoments
Summary: how they answer the age old question of “i want to love you but i don’t know how.”the moment where they come to realize that in the midst of creation, chaos, sin, and grace, that this is it, and that love is you.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime & Reader, Iwaizumi Hajime/Reader, Matsukawa Issei & Reader, Matsukawa Issei/Reader, Miya Atsumu & Reader, Miya Atsumu/Reader
Comments: 3
Kudos: 47





	1. turning page - miya atsumu

**Author's Note:**

> chapter 1| turning page:  
> atsumu stares at you as the thought that love, to him, for the both of you was gradual and not bursting.

miya atsumu realizes it’s you as he watches you sneeze into the crook of your elbow and sniffle afterwards.

you’re sitting shoulder to shoulder on the last shinkansen back to osaka, your head on his shoulder and the novelty _mcdonald’s_ chicken nugget charm dangling on your finger. he thinks that love really does look just like _this._

_just like you._

not in the physical sense, but by the burst of colors he sees when he sees your eyes. gold under the sun, then with depth under the moon. when he exhales, something inside him unhinges because he feels safe. because vulnerability, _to him_ , had always been daunting. but _with you_ , he realizes, it’s okay.

it still scares him, but you hold his hand.

nothing’s ever been more than okay ever since.

 _the privilege of being yours_ , atsumu thinks, is the greatest honor he’s ever received in this lifetime.

atsumu likes to think he’s not much of an emotional person. _but damn it_ , he thinks. when he feels your hand fit through his and squeeze, your cheek warm and soft as you press it against his shoulder, a gentle sort of realization from him slides into place.

_i really am fuckin’ in love with you._

the mcdonald’s paper bag from a couple hours ago still feels gross and a little oily in his hand, and atsumu swallows a chuckle when he recalls you somehow getting him to carry the bag instead of you. when he inhales, he smells the scent of the perfume you picked out at the mall a couple weeks ago, and atsumu smiles because having a steady sense of familiarity gives him comfort.

he looks at his watch; around fifteen minutes more to go before the train would stop at the _shin osaka_ station. atsumu knows he should probably wake you up by now, knowing the fact that you like to touch up last minute before getting off the train, but he doesn’t.

instead, he looks at you again, then at the charm swinging back and forth as it dangles, looped around the tip of your finger. you smell like home, and you feel as familiar as home too. the epiphany doesn’t click into place, atsumu realizes, but rather it slides into it.

and unlike the expectations and fantasies that’s been in his mind since ages ago, it isn’t instant—but rather, gradual.

the train halts, and you stir next to him, but he reaches around and cradles your head back to his shoulder so you would stay asleep.

 _ten minutes more,_ the watch on his wrist warns, and he should really be waking you up by now. but as the train lurches with the shin osaka station as its next and final destination, atsumu only laughs when you sniffle in your sleep.

 _gradual,_ he thinks again, because he knows that if he thinks long enough, he would recall all the days he’s spent with you. all the _in betweens_ from the first hello to the sleepy _good morning_ from just hours ago, atsumu still remembers vividly. he knows he loves you because the thought didn’t drop on him out of the blue, but because every day he realizes love is the only explanation of that _something_ in his chest that thrums more fondly with each passing hour.

he thinks maybe in a past life he’s had to wait a hundred years, but when he looks to his left—at the blurred sunset passing him by, he smiles because he thinks of you. and just like that atsumu knows that for you he would still be willing to wait a million more.

 _three minutes to osaka_ , his watch reminds him. _i know,_ atsumu groans internally.

when you wake, you’re staring at him with a look of exasperation already on your face once you realize the time. atsumu snickers when you quickly run your hands through your hair, his apologies not really sounding much like an apology if anything.

-

 _“sorrryyyyy,”_ he laughs an hour later, chin settled on his palm and teeth still biting with the straw in his drink.

you roll your eyes, leaning forward to flick his forward, reveling in victory when atsumu’s face shift from unfiltered amusement to a solid pout.

 _“kiss it better,”_ he demands, closing his eyes and leaning across the table towards you.

_“gross.”_

“you say that but i know you love me,” atsumu quickly replies with a nod to his head. he looks at you again, cheeky smile in place and love blooming with such an intensity in his chest that no other thoughts settle in his mind.

but in the midst of the scattered thoughts and disconnected sentences he knows he wants to deliver, when he sees your eyes soften and feel your hand rest on top of his, atsumu is rendered speechless.

“i’ll admit that i love you if you let me flick your forehead again,” he hears you offer with a laugh.

 _gradual_ , atsumu thinks. the realization hits him gradually because he still could recall every detail of every thought from only hours ago in the train.

“i’ll take it,” he hears himself answer, and when the sun leaks through the blinds of the window and halos over your head, atsumu takes a breath then holds.

_love really is you._

he exhales.

“love youuuuu,” he can’t help but say, and he tries to not let his voice crack because he suddenly feels more than overwhelmed.

and when you smile, atsumu feels like the world settles in place.


	2. heart - iwaizumi hajime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> all his life, he lived for the thrill of the fall, and the high that life brought him as he lets gravity catapult him back to the earth. then enters you, who easily becomes his life, his life–his home. 
> 
> how hajime realizes all of this, at 12 midnight; standing at a half empty parking lot, sharing an umbrella with you under the rain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> crossposted on my tumblr! (myelocin)

iwaizumi hajime likes to think that he’s lived life always with a parachute. 

failure didn’t scare him, nor did the notion of taking risks. uncertainty, on the other hand, was just something hajime deemed to be an avoidable factor you could live without. 

if you were to ask him if he wanted to jump off a plane or lean a little bit more towards the edge of the cliff just to feel that rush, he would say yes within a heartbeat. life, he thinks, is better lived with the thrill of the fall. where the height that was measured with the fall was only a number. calculated, measured, comprehensible to the human mind where numbers would be enough to reel it in. 

for as long as he’s known life, the jump, the thrill, and the fall, he knows that he doesn’t have anything to fear. 

_risk_ , hajime thinks, as present as it was, was only a figment of his imagination at best. when he leaped past the edge, he knew he could always afford to spread his wings and soar because before he could hit the ground, the parachute he always had would be the very thing that kept him above ground just for moments longer. 

_and the horizon_ , hajime smiles, has always been the grandest sight for him. the earth, as big and beautiful as it always is from just the window of his car or at the top of the summit could never look as vast as it does when he’s freefalling from the air. 

a rush of just the right amount of wind that feel like kisses instead of blades against his skin, a sky so big and so blue that contrasts with the hue of earth that have always been trapped in hajime’s eyes. it’s like diving into the unknown, but even with the darkness and the depth that loomed under his feet and with the fall, he knew where he would land each and every time.

hajime knew he would land home.

 _home_ , that sometimes is just the one bedroom apartment in shibuya that you found on an ad two weeks after the both of you decided to move in together. where the sky and the grand world meant the sight of you; golden like the sun, and blossoming like the life of the earth that steals hajime’s breath away every time. 

the genkan with the mismatched pair of slippers tossed to the side rather than placed in the cabinet he knew you bought to try to keep organized. a potted plant by the windowsill; leaves green and the petals he found himself counting every time he stood to water it the hue of a pastel yellow. your mug, next to his, sometimes on the corner of the table or in the sink after a meal.

the noodle packets with the kind of flavoring he never really bought for himself all those years ago, but now finds himself lining up at the cash register for all because of a text from you. 

home, where a good morning was said with a cup of coffee and two sizes too big of a sweater on you that smell like him more than they did you. 

-

though at times, hajime thinks, home can also be both anywhere and everywhere. home in the little moments.

 _like this,_ hajime smiles, watching you as you shake a closed umbrella free of its raindrops, the expression on your face happy despite the stray drops of rain on your shoulder. he knows he’s at the new supermarket a few miles over the usual one at eleven pm, but even if the street names on the lamp posts around are unfamiliar, he still feels a sense of home.

 _home,_ in the little moments such as this because the smile you wear is familiar just like the scent of the perfume he knows you’ve worn for years now.

a sense of belongingness that grounds him right back down to earth at the sound of your voice, even as you’re calling him over from one end of the produce section to another, asking him if you should get some spinach for tonight’s dinner. the quick _ok,_ you tell him, coupled by the kind of smile hajime knows is for him has always been enough to have his heart racing.

he thinks that it’s sometime around twelve, where he’s standing next to you at the cash register, where the greatest epiphany in life finally hits him.

it comes to him slowly too, where he knows that when he thinks back on it later on, he’ll smile to himself because the memories will trickle in instead of crash into him all together.

“haji?” he hears, and when he looks at you, your hands are carrying the groceries he realizes the two of you picked together to take _home._

he thinks of the raindrops that are waiting to be met with your smile outside, the puddles that look clear against the pavement that are keeping their form for you to skip on with a giggle, and hajime bites his lip.

 _life,_ he thinks in the moment is this. it’s the address that’s keyed in the gps labeled home, and the adjusted seat on the passenger seat of his car adjusted to the way he knows you’re the most comfortable in.

and love, on the other hand, hajime awakens to, is _you._

It really is _this,_ because when he watches you first smile at the slow drops of rain, second giggle at the puddles saying hello on the pavement, then third press your shoulder closer to his as you walk slow steps with him under the umbrella, hajime knows that in the moment—he’s _soaring._

he fears, that in the moment perhaps you would be able to hear just how hard his heart is beating. so with cheeks flushed, eyes a little watery, and fingers trembling ever so slightly, hajime turns and faces the left, focusing his eyes towards the streetlights in the distance. the sound of raindrops on the umbrella, blending with the soft lull of your voice as he listens to you talk about how you’d go about and make dinner for two later has his head spinning.

 _for two,_ hajime thinks, his heart _bursting_ in his chest. _dinner for two._

and even if he’s probably eaten at least a few thousand meals with you by now, he swears to every deity above that cares to listen to a man in love, that _every_ moment with you still fills him with the same high everyone talks about.

 _love really is you,_ hajime smiles, exhaling softly as he wills his heart to still before turning to his left and facing you, who stares at the half empty parking lot in front, a smile on your face.

he’s struck with the realization that he wants to cry. he wants to run to the next ledge and jump, because gravity in the moment feels as if it doesn’t exist. a light covers the both of you as you walk past a street light, and as hajime turns to stare at your profile, he’s rendered speechless because he sees the world— _his world—_ in front of his eyes.

then like always, before he plunges into the raging seas, it’s suddenly clear to him that this whole time it’s _you_ who is the parachute that kept him soaring above the water his whole life.

“let’s go home?” he hears you say, voice light like the sound of raindrops tapping on wind chimes.

hajime inhales, and for a moment just allows the silence to still time as he stares at you, the blur of raindrops falling before it suddenly pauses, looking like a scene straight out of a movie.

“haji,” you laugh, and at the sound of your voice, the world is in motion again.

because more than love, _it’s you,_ he thinks again.

the sight of life beyond the ledge; beautiful, grand, and _vast._ then at the same time, the _love_ that grounds him back to earth and reminds him to feel the roots of the very soil that molded his limbs before he could take flight.

but in the midst of it all, _it’s you—_ his parachute that reminds him to be fearless against the unknown.

-

 _“let’s go home,”_ he says, and you smile, thinking that his voice fits with the sound of raindrops on glass.


	3. saturn - matsukawa issei

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> issei feels the kind of familiar where you know you’ve loved him in your lives before this, but it’s in this life and in this moment where you realize you don’t want to forget and start over again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> crossposted on my tumblr! (myelocin)

_“how rare and beautiful it is to even exist,”_ are the words that loop in your head over and over again every time issei holds your hand under the night sky.

you think of how the space around you feels like a pool of _nothing._ like you’re suspended in a void of just whatever nothing was made out of. even if in the back of your mind you’re aware of how issei’s car is parked some distance away from where you lay on your backs, side by side as the night sky above watches you. you’re aware about how his grandmother’s house is only a few streets away from this space of temporary nothing—but somehow when you look up, then around the space that _still_ looks like just a void, the moment feels _still._

so even as you begin to feel yourself drift up with the stars, the moon’s pull sounding like the siren’s song you’ve been warned all your life to never drift towards—earth’s gravity manifests in the form of a boy whose hands are warm like the sun.

 _“what time is it?”_ you know you should probably ask, because the lights from the houses in the distance are dim by now.

issei next to you can hear the unspoken question, so he smiles as he reads you, but ultimately chooses to not answer either way.

“how have you been feeling?” is what he voices out instead, and when you don’t turn your head to face him, issei shifts to his side and turns to look at you instead.

 _saturn,_ he thinks. _he thinks he sees the rings of saturn swirl around your eyes._ but when he squints and tries to look closer, issei can only smile more when he sees the stars from above reflect in the depth of your irises—looking more like twinkling fireflies instead of the balls of fire that _could_ very well give life.

and _stars,_ issei smiles. probably the most heartbreaking metaphor the universe could offer. the lights in the sky that’s probably live longer than he; coming from stars that are long gone—their very essence scattered across the dark space of a universe who can’t be known of whether it is kind or cruel.

“how do you want me to answer that?” you reply that comes in the form of a question, the corners of your lips quirking up into a smile.

then when you blink, a gleam of light from above is caught in your eye before you turn to face him, the traces of it quickly swallowed back into the depths as you turn from the light. _black holes,_ issei recalls.

he thinks that tonight you reminded him a little bit like the universe. and because the universe witnessed nothing but truth as humanity thrived and evolved under its watch, he opens his mouth as he asks _you_ for your truth.

“just answer it however you want to answer it.”

“i feel like every time i look at the sky, i’m only reminded of how much of a flicker we only are,” is _your_ truth that you whisper to him. and much like the listening ears of the void, issei stays still next to you, but lets his presence be known through his silence.

but in his silence, you find _safety,_ so you look up at the sky again and continue.

“i think about this life, the past, and the next. maybe i knew and loved you in the life before this, maybe i didn’t. maybe i loved someone else as much as i love _you_ now, issei. and it always trips me up because what if that’s the grand plan for us after this life. what if we’re only meant to love each other in _this_ life and only get to brush shoulders a couple of times as strangers in every life after this?”

“i don’t want to forget you, _issei,”_ you whisper as you finish confessing the truth that’s weighed heavy on you.

beside you, issei exhales and looks at the sky. at the moon whose phase he can’t quite recall the name of and like its gravity that gently pulled you—he felt himself rise to the sky with his emotions.

he knows that something inside him _aches—has ached—_ but for as long as he felt it he could never find a name for it. your hand, a little cold in his, shakes, and just like that issei knows that the storm inside you is raging at its greatest speed.

“i think of the lady down the street all the time too, you know?” he hears you speak again.

he hums, squeezing your hand motioning for you to continue.

“when she used to give me cookies during the holidays, i’d always say thank you to her and to who she could have been before because every time i eat what she makes, it tastes like i’ve had it before. i know no one in the house really had time to bake, but that auntie felt like an old friend. “

“but then again, even if that was the case, who she was in this life is who is in my memories. i didn’t like her because i felt like i _knew_ her, but i did because i got to _know_ her. in _this_ life.”

you pause to exhale. _shaky,_ issei notes, like the almost unnoticeable tremble of your hands. he knows that if he were just to loosen his hands in the _slightest,_ that he would miss it. but because he is still next to you, still like the void that listens to the very universe that cradles and destroys galaxies whisper its truth over and over again, he still _hears_ you.

“i feel like i’ve known you for lifetimes,” you say as you finally turn to face him, cradling his face in the palm of your hands. your breath hitches because every time issei looks at you—you know that he _sees_ you. he’s always _understood_ you. always made the madness in your head and scattered bursts of emotions in your heart make _sense_ even if in reality it’s anything but fluid.

like scattered light, you think. the sparks you see during the new year that build and build and _build_ until it _bursts._

then when it scatters, the feeling that comes to you is one that you _understand_ despite the lack of words to frame it with.

“we probably have,” you hear him reply, softly. kindly. _in honesty._

but the rage in your heart doesn’t succumb to the call of silence. because like scattered light, it’s in _this_ lifetime where the epiphany hits you that you love him with an intensity as such. you know the fireworks are beautiful and are only in the sky to be seen by your eyes, but much like the stars you know that even if the remnants of their light remains for the shortest while—they, _themselves,_ will cease to exist.

and the fact that you don’t know where they would go after is what terrifies you the most.

“i don’t wanna chase you again and again and forget this,” you whisper.

“ _us,”_ you continue.

“matsukawa issei is the name of the man i love in this lifetime and i don’t want you to become _just_ familiar _,”_ you cry.

 _“i don’t want us to just be stars,”_ you finish.

 _your truth,_ issei begins to think, _is what sparks questions for him._ for as long as you tried to explain the infinite, he has always just listened.

the void.

where weightlessness was the constant he felt when he was with you. the kind that’s in between space and earth; where he’s caught in a trance when he’s with you until he eventually drifts too close to the edge until gravity starts to take hold and pull.

but even as issei hurdles towards earth, his speed too unprecedented that it comes to a point where he’s confused of whether he’s diving or soaring—in the midst of its chaos, issei only knows peace. because whether he looks up at the sky or down where he’s meant to land, the black of the sky and the inked navy of the ocean looks the _same._

 _do we soar to the stars or dive headfirst into the ocean?_ is the question he thinks of, and just like that the infinite remains unanswered.

“the inevitable is something that will never be in our hands to change,” issei replies instead, his voice hushed.

and he knows you hear him because just like that, you tremble in his hands and cry at _fate’s_ truth.

“to think that i have loved you, _am_ loving you, and _will_ be loving you, i think is really the universe’s only way of being forgiving,” you hear issei mumble, as your heart clenches even further.

the scattered lights are back, you notice. you see them vivid behind your eyelids as you press the heels of your palm to your eyes to fight back the tears. the words you wish to say come in pieces of letters instead of coherent sentences while the feeling in your heart feels like it’s already at its peak.

looking at issei, you scramble for a sense of fluidity so you can capture your thoughts and lay them out as how you _feel_ them—but your mouth comes dry.

and like the simplest lullaby that never failed to hum you to sleep, issei’s voice chimes: “ _how rare and beautiful it is to even just exist.”_

_“in this moment, in this very second we’re in the same life and loving each other with names we’ve come to know.”_

and because you’ve always thought that the listening void deserved the greatest honors, before you could even allow it, your heart calms as the puzzle pieces snap in place.

“do you really think that the universe is still forgiving? despite it making us chase each other in different lifetimes with different faces and names every single time?” you ask, looking for comfort in _his_ truth.

“your soul remains,” issei says, the twinkle in his eyes looking like stars.

“i love you by your soul, and not your name, and neither the universe or fate could ever take that away from us,” he finishes.

you decide that the stars you see in his eyes are those who are still alive.

“are you certain? that the universe won’t take that away from us?” you ask, exhaling your truth as a question instead of a confession.

“could we ever truly be certain?” issei replies, not really knowing the answer himself.

earth’s gravity reminds him of its presence when issei turns to look at you and sees the hem of your sweater fall onto the blades of grass. and for what it’s worth, it brings him comfort; it reminds him that despite the uncertainties and cruelty of fate, the universe’s mercy also exists.

where you and him with the souls that probably have loved again and again, in the moment _exist_ together under the stars.

the truth you hold is one that speaks of an unsourced ache.

and though shrouded in mystery, as you turn to look at him and offer him a smile where he knows he may have just seen in this life but found a familiar refuge in from his soul—issei can never deny the beauty the universe holds when it comes to exhale its truth. 

**Author's Note:**

> cross posted on my tumblr! (myelocin)


End file.
